


Manors, Geniuses, and Chairs on Rockets

by CommonWorldDomination



Category: Big Hero 6: The Series (Cartoon), 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crossover, Gen, Minor Memory Loss, Needles, Obake is everyone's dad, Original Character has a Mental Breakdown at the Drop of a Hat, Original Character is bad at feelings, Other Additional Tags May Be Added, POV Original Character, Some Humor, Some characters are OOC, This Is STUPID, but he doesn't want to admit it, but in the context of how they're used in idv, coping fic too sorta, except Obake and Trina, for now it's just this, i'm hyperfixating on idv and bh6 so i gotta make a crossover fic, it depends, more characters may be added, most of the villains are hunters, no beta we die like obake, some characters have abilities taken from canon idv characters, some don't, syringes, there's coping ships in here oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonWorldDomination/pseuds/CommonWorldDomination
Summary: A Big Hero 6 x Identity V crossover fic. Centered on Makoto Shimizu, titled "The Prisoner" by the host of a game they'd been invited to participate in.Some of their adventures are funny, some of them are tragic, and others are confusing and ask more questions than they answer.
Relationships: Bob Aken/Original Female Character(s), Momakase (Marvel)/Original Character(s), Trina (Big Hero 6)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Manors, Geniuses, and Chairs on Rockets

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter in and Makoto is already having a mental breakdown! How fun.  
> The second half of this is inspired by Hypomnesia (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724179) by beetl. Please go check them out!

The waiting room was cold. Colder than Makoto was used to. The discordant waltz playing softly on the record player in the back corner of the room wasn’t helping. It made the room colder, somehow. Makoto looked at the placard sitting in front of the chair next to them. 

“Bob Aken.” They read aloud, taking note of how the B and N on the nameplate were slightly scratched off, leaving the word “OBAKE” printed in the garish all-caps font. Hm. Obake. They’d met that guy before. He’d come to the manor a little while after Makoto did. A real quiet fellow. He didn’t really interact with the other survivors much, but when he did it was always somehow reminiscent of a tired dad. They leaned over to look at the placard at the end of the table. They couldn’t read it fully, but they were pretty sure it said something along the lines of ‘Angie Oni-something.’ The other seat was too far away for them to look at the placard. The survivors weren’t allowed to tamper with them anyway, and that included picking them up. And Makoto wasn’t gonna get up just to read it either.

Makoto leaned back in their chair, picking up one of the stale rolls that sat in the basket on the table and picking it apart, pushing the parts that hadn’t gone completely hard into their mouth and leaving the rest on one of the plates in front of them.

The door to the waiting room opened, and two more survivors stepped in. One of them was a tall, lanky man with a red streak in his hair- that Obake guy. The other was dressed in a green sweater and a brown skirt. She carried some canvases and a set of paints with her, and an easel strapped to her back- she must be the new one. The painter. Makoto hadn’t been in a match with her yet, so they were excited to see what she could do.

The two of them sat in their respective chairs. So, just one more survivor, then. The mystery survivor Makoto couldn’t see the name of.

The survivor table fell into silence as they waited for the last one of them to enter. Makoto leaned back in their chair again, propping their feet up on the table.

Suddenly, the waiting room door opened again. Finally, the last survivor was there. Now they just had to wait until the hunter was ready.

The last survivor was one of the older ones, someone who’d been in the manor longer than the other three at the table. Her name was GoGo, she was a speedster, and she was a god in terms of kiting. If the hunter found her first, this was a match they were bound to win.

Makoto looked at the paper in the middle of the table that told them what map they’d be on. Eversleeping Town. Oh good, a map they were familiar with. They leaned back again as the buzzer that told them the hunter was ready for the match sounded through the room.

Makoto had no idea how they brought the survivors to the maps. The buzzer would just sound, the world would go black, and suddenly everyone was there, albeit scattered around the map. Makoto looked around to get a feel for their surroundings. They’d been put in the graveyard. They rushed to the cemetery’s front gate, seeing the large entrance to the basement sitting right there.

“Basement’s here!” They called out, hearing the ping of someone’s nearby communicator going off. So they’d ended up near someone. Cool. Hopefully that someone was decoding.

Makoto rushed to the cipher machine that sat in the middle of the graveyard and crouched next to it, fiddling with the little box of wires protruding from the ground. They looked over the map on their communicator, before connecting the cipher they were at to one across the map that was already further along. They stood up straight and then hunkered down over the machine, typing away as they tried to figure out the code laid out in front of them.

Oh shit. Their heart was beating. Loudly, too. They shoved themself off of the cipher machine, only to come face to face with that match’s hunter. Ah, fuck. Not that Hardlight bastard.

“The hunter is near me!” They called as they ran out of the graveyard and out across the tracks, hoping the tram would come in time to smack Hardlight and stun him. They vaulted over the window they’d ended up in front of, running through the streets of the empty town. They weren’t good at kiting at all. This was terrifying for them. They rushed through an opening with a pallet in it and blindly pulled it down, hearing the hunter groan as it smacked him.

_ Ping! Makoto Shimizu has hit the hunter with a pallet. _

Makoto ran across the tram’s tracks again, flinching as they felt the blade of Hardlight’s obnoxiously long sword slice through their back. Panic surged through their bones as they began to run faster, turning and running up the stairs to the second floor of the building they’d ended up in front of. They threw themselves through the carpeted building, the heart beating loudly in their ears as they vaulted through the one open window and fell onto the hard asphalt of the road behind the building. They picked a direction and ran, pulling another palette down as they did so. They stumbled as they ran toward a better area to kite in, their breath stinging in their lungs.

Hardlight’s blade dug into Makoto’s back again, sending them hurtling to the ground. They tried to crawl away, only to be grabbed by the ankle and dragged. They dug into the ground with their short nails, kicking and scrambling to get out of Hardlight’s grip. They didn’t succeed. They felt the massive cut on their back surge with pain as they were slammed into one of the stupid-ass rocket-covered chairs scattered throughout the map. They struggled against the restraints. It was a useless effort, but at least they tried.

Makoto watched the hunter walk off, his sword dragging behind him and leaving tracks on the ground. They continued to struggle, the barbed wire that held them against the chair digging through the sleeves of their shirt and into their skin as they did so. They listened to the sound of ciphers across the map popping as their teammates finished them. Makoto stopped struggling and resigned to just staring at the ground as they heard the timer above them start ticking faster. They felt tears gather in their eyes as they resigned to their inevitable fate of getting blasted off.

_ Ping! “Don’t move, I’m coming!” _

Makoto couldn’t see who was coming to help them. Judging by the voice that came with the ping, it was GoGo. But Makoto could never be sure of that. The sound of skate wheels clicking against the ground met Makoto’s ears as they slumped against the chair. Suddenly, the restraints on the chair were off and Makoto was being pulled out of it. They felt their heart speed up as GoGo shoved them away from the chair, toward the tracks and the waiting tram in front of them. In their daze, they stumbled up the steps onto the tram, just in time for it to take off. They peered out the window, watching GoGo skate off with Hardlight in her wake.

Makoto stumbled off the tram at its next stop. It had taken them to the little lakeside view that the city had. Makoto stood there for a minute, looking out over the water, before rushing off again, back to the graveyard and the cipher machine they’d abandoned. They fell to their knees in front of the one chest in the graveyard, their breath shakily exiting their lungs. They opened the little red box, rummaging through all the junk until they found it.

The syringe. Their saving grace. They slinked off to the back corner, took a deep breath, and stabbed the syringe into the crook of their elbow. Whatever was in the thing, they had no idea, but it healed wounds way better than any of the other survivors could. The pain from the gash in their back faded as they discarded the empty syringe, running back to the cipher they’d abandoned.

Someone else was there, that Obake guy. Makoto headed to the cipher machine anyway, latching onto the side of it. The machines were rickety, and parts often fell out of place while people were decoding. So having someone to help keep a machine together was always good. Sure, it slowed down the decoding progress, but that was just a minor setback.

  
“Evening, Mr. Aken.” Makoto said as they smacked the back of the cipher machine.

“Hello, Makoto.” Obake said to them, his attention still mostly on the cipher machine. Right. He didn’t like making small talk while decoding with other people. Makoto smacked the back of the cipher machine again. Their connection had been severed (or maybe the other cipher had been cracked), so they knelt down and connected the graveyard cipher to one across the map. They turned the little dial that transmitted the progress on that cipher to the other one, hoping that someone else was there to pick up the slack.

“So how far along is this thing?” They asked, looking over at Obake as they shook the tall, rickety pole that extended up from the machine. Electricity from the little field created around the cipher surged through their bones, causing them to shudder.

“I’d say…” Obake took a brief second to look down at the code he’d been cracking. “About eighty percent.”

Makoto nodded in response.

_ Ping! GoGo is containing the hunter for 60 seconds. _

Oh, rad.

Makoto felt their heart speed up again. Obake did too, if him starting to look back as he decoded was any indication. The light above them came on with a jarring “CLUNK” as the cipher machine spit out a page at them. The two ran off in the same direction, away from GoGo and the hunter she’d accidentally brought toward them. They split up after that, though.

_ Ping! 1 cipher remaining. _

Fuck, how long had they been running? How long had they been chaired? Makoto looked up above the tops of the buildings, looking for a glowing antenna to run to.

_ Ping! GoGo has been downed. _

Shit. Makoto looked around. They had to find-

The siren that told the survivors the exit gate could be opened sounded. 

_ Ping! “I'm up, open the gate! _

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief and made a mad dash for the nearest gate, looking at their communicator to see the passcode that was being broadcasted onto the little screen. They quickly entered the password into the keypad next to the gate, squeezing through the metal doors when they got wide enough for Makoto to shove themself through. They stopped just inside, waiting for the others. They were the first to the gate, they had to make sure everyone left in the match got out safe. Green sweater girl ran to the gate, placing an easel and canvas down just outside it. She ran past Makoto and out of the map, to the path back to the manor. On the canvas was a painting of the hunter. Makoto would have to ask about that later.

The cawing of crows made Makoto look up. They’d been idle too long. The crows had gathered over them. The other survivors needed to get out, and soon.

The next person to run past them was Obake. He didn’t say anything, he just rushed out.

_ Ping! “Run! I’m going to the dungeon!” _

Alright, that was their cue. Makoto ran to the path back to the manor, slowing down once the wrought-iron gate that separated the map from the path slammed shut behind them. They caught their breath, before starting down the beaten path back to Muirahara Manor.

Now was the hardest part. Waiting to be let back in. All remaining survivors had to get to the door before it would open. Makoto sat on the cold, damp front steps as they waited, absentmindedly tapping their fingers against the hard stone.

The metal door in the ground next to the stairs slammed open, and GoGo crawled out of it. She was obviously hurt still, since she’d taken a hit back there. One of them would have to take her to Sheila.

“You two go on inside, I’ll make sure GoGo gets to Sheila.” Makoto said, standing up from the steps as GoGo hobbled to the rest of the survivors. The old wooden doors of the manor creaked open, inviting the four into the warm inside space of the foyer. Makoto helped GoGo inside, watching as the other two walked deeper into the manor. Makoto guided the injured GoGo to the room in the manor that Sheila, a doctor who’d gotten roped into the game as well, had claimed as her office. It had probably been some kind of kitchen before, since there were sinks and counters and all, but most of them were busted and unusable.

“By the way,” Makoto said as they reached the door, “thanks for saving my ass back there. Really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Just don’t get caught again, dumbass.” GoGo said jokingly as Makoto handed her over to Sheila.

“I don’t plan on it. Heal fast, now.” Makoto laughed a little, before jogging off toward their room to change into clothes that weren’t ripped to hell.

As they looked at the various items of clothing the manor owner had stocked their closet with, they mulled over what they’d do next. They didn’t have any more matches that day, and all three of the games were available. Maybe they’d go play Duos? That was always fun. Or maybe they could go play Blackjack, maybe tag team with Momakase again. Ooh, maybe they could play Tarot? It was a relatively new game at the manor, and they were yet to try it.

Alright, it’s settled. They’ll play Tarot. They grabbed a new binder and shirt from the closet, throwing them on and rushing out, excited to try out the new game. They were halfway down the hallway the survivors’ quarters were in when they stopped. How long had they been chaired last game? Had they really run around for 3 ciphers? Or was that how long they were chaired?

Thinking back on it, they’d only heard the popping of ciphers after they were chaired. They spent most of the game in that stupid rocket chair. They’d almost blasted off.

Their team almost let them get blasted off.

Were they that much of a burden? Were they really so useless that their team would abandon them and go on with just three people?

Makoto was suddenly sick to their stomach. They turned around and went right back into their room, shutting the door behind them. They slumped against the far wall of the room, sliding down until they were sitting with their knees to their chest. They couldn’t stop thinking about how their team waited to rescue them. They popped three ciphers before someone came to rescue them. Makoto was almost sent back to the manor in the worst way possible. Makoto had almost been subjected to the broken bones and burns that came with getting blasted off in one of the rocket chairs. Makoto would have had to crawl back, burnt and bloody, to the manor. It had happened to them once, and it took hours to get back. Their skin crawled as they thought back on it, the nausea getting worse as they tried to force the memory back into whatever shitty goblin hole it had come out of.

Makoto practically jumped out of their skin when there was a knock on their door. Their heart was beating hard, pounding in their ears like the beat of a drum.

“Makoto? Makoto, are you in here?” The old mahogany door creaked open. A familiar head of blue and black hair poked into the crack between it and the wall. Momakase. One of their favorite hunters, to be honest. She was nice outside of matches. Sweet, even. Usually.

Makoto didn’t want company, though. Not even Momakase’s company.

“Go away.” They snapped, peering at the hunter through the gaps between their bangs.

“The survivors said you weren’t at dinner. I brought you your food.”

“Go. Away.”

Momakase opened the door fully anyway.

“You probably don’t remember, but you told us not to leave you alone when you’re like this. Even if you asked. Come on, eat before your food gets cold.”

“I can’t. Too nauseous. I’ll just throw it up anyway.”

“I beg to differ.” Momakase sat down next to Makoto, setting the plate in front of them. “Your last match was six hours ago. You’re probably nauseous because you’re hungry.” Her tone softened suddenly. “Could you please at least try?”

Six hours? They looked out the window. The grey clouds outside had been replaced with the pitch black of the nightly thunderstorm.

“I- fine. I’ll eat. But if I vomit, I’m blaming you.” There’s no real emotion behind their words, just the shaky voice that came with their anxiety. They finally looked at the dinner Momakase had brought them. Some kind of meat with gravy, vegetables, a roll. The usual. It was never different, unless someone offered to cook. Makoto tore a piece from the roll, pushing it into their mouth, barely chewing before they swallow it. They continued eating small chunks, dipping them in the gravy when they figured they could handle it. Soon enough, the plate was clean.

“You were right.” They say, laughing weakly. “I was hungry.”

Well, they’re fed. But they didn’t feel any more alert. They silently leaned against Momakase’s shoulder, relaxing when they felt the hunter shift to have her arm around them. 

Makoto woke up the next morning. They didn’t even remember going to sleep. They’re not on the floor like they remember being. There’s a glass of water on their nightstand, one that wasn’t there before. They take a sip, before looking at the calendar next to their bed. They have the day off today. They roll over, pulling the heavy blanket tighter over them. They could use some extra sleep this morning.


End file.
